Mushroom
by Anna Fay
Summary: Adventure. Romance. Guy. - Set in an AU where Marian was clever enough to run after season one, a.k.a. the disastrous wedding to make space to an OFC. Available in Hungarian too, under the name "Gomba, gomba bogyók".
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Mushroom

**Author:** Anna Fay Morgan  
**Rating / warnings:** M15 - set in an AU where Marian was clever enough to run after season one, a.k.a. the disastrous wedding.  
**Characters / pairings:** Guy of Gisborne, OFC (hopefully not Mary Sue), Vasey + sometimes Robin, Marian and Gang.  
**Summary:** Adventure. Romance. Guy. Who needs more? :)

Thanks and tons of chocolate goes to **Sedri** at LJ, who was kind enough to be my beta in the English; and **asd** & **LesMis** in the Hungarian version. All remaining mistakes are mine.

_Sadly I do not own any of the original characters, they all belong to BBC and Tiger Aspect._

_- Please note that this was written last year, well before season three, so some of the characters can seem a bit OOC now. _

oOo

Mushroom, mushroom, berries, two ugly-looking dotted eggs, berries, mushroom, mushroom, mushroom. Much gave a sad sigh as he counted the things he had managed to gather in two hours of hard work. On that day even a squirrel or two would have been welcome on his plate, no matter how dreadful creatures they were. After a year of living in the forest he gave up his dreams of soft, pink, spicy pork for quite some time.

"I guess they no longer roast pork at all," he said to himself, but before he could get to the gloomy idea that maybe there might be no pigs on this Earth anymore, sound of hooves disturbed his thoughts. The nearest bush was a dozen steps and a long jump's distance. The nearest tree was within arm's reach. He quickly crouched next to the trunk and hoped that his earth-coloured clothes will give him enough protection.

They did. Two soldiers and a lady galloped past him as if he was nothing but a pathetic little bush or a root poking out of the ground; nothing worth looking at. That hurt a bit, but not as much as it could have if he'd to fight the men alone, so he seized his basket with the pitiful mushrooms and the ugly eggs and ran towards the camp to alert the others, for the travellers that were bound to come back soon.

oOo

"Ah, Lady Gwyneth," said Sheriff Vasey with a stilted, fatherly smile on his face as the door of his office opened. "Come, come! We've been waiting for you!"

"My lord, I'm asking your help in a personal matter." The young woman bowed her head, but when she lifted it again, she looked at the man standing behind Vasey. Then, slowly, she turned to look at Vasey himself.

"I'm sorry, I give no private audiences," said the sheriff, but before Gwyneth had any chance to argue, he added; "Gisborne can have a look at you and make sure you're not hiding any daggers under your gown. After that he can leave us."

"He can stay," Gwyneth agreed coldly.

"You heard the lady, Gisborne, you can stay!" The gleeful smiles on their faces were embarrassing enough, but it was over in no time, whereas searching through her clothes could have lasted for long minutes.

"How is our beloved Sir Archibald?" asked Vasey when he finally stopped grinning over his own joke.

"Frailer and frailer with every passing day," said Gwyneth. "He's dying."

"I'm sorry to hear that." It was clear that the sheriff was about as shocked by this grave news as the young widow-to-be: Not at all.

"Thank you," she nodded, without affection in her voice. "I'm asking for your help in a matter connected to my husband's imminent death."

Vasey didn't say a word, but the way he put both hands on the arms of his chair indicated that Gwyneth should consider his attention as the greatest of all graces.

"With his father's death, my stepson wishes to marry me," she said.

"Congratulations!" The time could not have been more inappropriate, but Gwyneth couldn't help admiring how each and every smile of Vasey's could be more unpleasant than the one before.

"I would like to avoid this marriage," she said.

"I see." The sheriff tilted his head slightly.

"I'm asking your help to do so. In return I can offer you either land or money, from what I will get back from my dowry after my husband's death." Gwyneth stepped a little closer to the table between her and the sheriff, and added: "In a few years' time I will inherit other estates as well. I'm sure I will be able to pay generously for your help."

"I will have to think about it!"

"Thank you, my lord. If you'd be so kind and allow me to stay for the night… It's getting dark," she said. She was sure that in a night she could also think of something that would benefit not only Vasey, but herself as well.

"Gisborne will find you a room. Welcome to Nottingham; I hope you feel at home." Vasey sighed as if he had to live with people wanting his rooms, his meals, and his generosity every day.

Gwyneth waited fr a few second, but as the sheriff didn't say anything else, she bowed and turned to leave the room with Gisborne.

For some time she followed him silently, but after the third flight of steps, she decided to walk beside him and ask; "Do you think the sheriff will help me?"

"I cannot tell," Gisborne replied without looking at her.

"My offer might be too small for someone already ruling Nottinghamshire," she said, glancing at Gisborne with only the slightest of smiles. "But I'm sure it must be appealing for someone at the beginning of his career."

"Are you offering it to me?" he asked, for the first time looking at her.

"I do, if you accept!" Gwyneth broadened her smile, as he stopped and opened a door for her. "I hope the sheriff doesn't mind if you do."

Gisborne didn't say a word, but he was clearly considering it and needed only a nudge. "I would be in your debt," she said touching his arm lightly. "And I would be very grateful!"

"I'll se what I can do," said Gisborne, nodding slowly.

"_Thank you_," Gwyneth whispered solemnly.

"This room is too small," he said, smiling. "We should find you a bigger one!"

Gwyneth returned the smile and let him lead on. If only but a bigger bed came from smiling and being nice, she would be content.

It took Gisborne so long to get back to the office that Vasey started to think that he didn't only get the seductive offer from Lady Gwyneth, but took some deposit as well.

"Between you and me, this girl knows how to play our game," he said when Gisborne finally returned and could affirm Vasey's suspicions about the offer. "I hope she's not too clever, though. It's not good to have business with clever women."

"Are we to help her, my lord?" Gisborne asked.

"Of course we are!" Vasey smiled, sending his servants away. "It is our duty to help those in need!"

Gisborne only laughed softly.

"And this time, we will not help only because our good hearts urge us to do so, but because we will be paid for it!" Vasey sipped his wine, and continued with a broad smile. "Like Sir Archibald himself, his relatives also happen live for incredibly long time. On the other hand, they aren't really good at producing male heirs. And so when our good friend dies, his only son gets all his lands and riches."

Gisborne stepped only a little closer, smiling.

"It is in our interest too to prevent the boy from marrying our Lady Gwyneth," Vasey said, tapping the table before him with every word. "It is in our interest to prevent the boy from marrying anyone and making children. For if anything happens to him, his heirs would get the lands, and not us, Sir Archibald's chosen brothers."

"So we would have killed him anyway?"

"In time. But poor Lady Gwyneth will have to pay for it nonetheless!"

oOo

With some disappointment Gwyneth had to accept that she'd be the very last item on Vasey's list the next day. Waiting on the doorstep of his office like an eager child was out of the question. Climbing all the steps back to her room likewise. She decided to have a walk around the castle's yard. Then around the battlements. And the great hall. And the cathedral.

At last a servant came running with the good news: Vasey has finished all his other tasks and was willing to see her.

She expected a ridiculously high price and was ready for bargaining, but the sheriff merely smiled at her and apologized for not being able to say what he'd ask for.

"For now I can't even say how I could help you," he indicated a chair on which Gwyneth sat reluctantly. "And I would hate to set a price now and lift it later."

Gwyneth tried not to back away from him with her chair, but smiled gratefully and decided to change the topic: "Please, forgive my bluntness, my lord, but I would like to know if I can count on your help, or I should start to look for other possible solutions." She only glimpsed on Gisborne. She didn't expect him to keep her offer in secret from Vasey, and wanted to see his reaction too.

"You can," Vasey nodded. "And I take your bluntness as a virtue. For now."

Gwyneth couldn't help feeling sorry for mice trapped by large, evil cats.

"To be able to help you," Vasey continued "I'll also need your help. Nothing to worry about, nothing impossible. All you have to do is send me a word when Sir Archibald passes away. As quickly as possible."

"May I use the messenger my husband used to?"

"Meaning the one that should be my and your dear husband's secret? Of course!" Vasey laughed.

---

_Thanks for reading. reviews make me happy for long-long days..._


	2. Chapter 2

The carriage and the cart behind it looked like a too easy a target, but with Gisborne and his six horsemen around it, there was no need to call off the mission just because it wasn't exciting enough.

"Ready?" asked Robin, lying under one of the bushes beside the road.

"Ready!" whispered Marian, and although her face was hidden by her mask, he could tell by the glimmer in her eyes that she was grinning from ear to ear. No man could be more eager to steal from the rich than the Nightwatchman.

"Let's go." Robin pushed himself up from the ground; the others followed.

As always, they surrounded the little caravan, dragged a few soldiers from their horses, and aimed their arrows at the others. It was an act they could have done any time. With one hand. And eyes closed.

"Hood." Gisborne was eloquent as always. He jerked his horse towards the carriage, trying to block the door from them and protect the travellers inside.

"Back off," said Robin grinning, and lifting his arrow to point it at the other man's chest, but Gisborne did not move from between him and the young couple sitting in the carriage. They were pale and frightened, as one should be during an ambush.

"My lady!" Robin called. "You don't have to be frightened. We won't hurt you. If you'd be so kind and throw your jewels out of the window, we let you go right away."

"Stay where you are," Gisborne hissed irritably. As if stealing from right under his nose was something personal.

"We don't want to be killed for a few coins," said the man in the carriage, and he stepped out through the door. Gisborne could do nothing, but pull his horse away from him.

And from that point it was very simple. As soon as he could reach him, John grabbed the young man and pushed him to the side of the carriage, then took the jewelled ring and the purse he was holding in his trembling hands.

"My lady?" asked Robin.

For a moment she did not move, but at last finally said: "I wear no jewels. I am in mourning." Then she slowly looked out at them. "And now I wish to resume my journey and bury my husband."

That was awkward. Robin could feel the others turning their heads towards the cart the way he did. It was most fortunate that they did not bother to open the wooden box on it yet.

With a small cough Robin nodded to the gang, and they started to back towards the forest, one by one. He remained were he was, until they were all out of sight. Gisborne way sneering so smugly that it was almost impossible to resist the temptation and to let an arrow pierce one of his ears.

As a sign of compassion, Robin bowed his head towards the widow and slowly retreated to the forest.

It wasn't their most successful day, but the ring and the coins in John's pocket were enough to feed a few families for at least two months.

oOo

The bishop gave his best performance. Sir Archibald's funeral was very touching; his widow at least cried from the first moment of the ceremony to the very last. So hard, in fact that Vasey considered sending for a cup of water before she died of dehydration – and he always considered himself to be a man whose heart could not be melted by tears.

And that frustrated him.

The more he watched Lady Kidsgrove and her sometimes silently dripping, sometimes bitterly flowing tears, the more he knew that something was not right.

"Look at them," he said to Gisborne, as the Black Knights one by one bowed to the widow before leaving the cathedral. "Isn't it bizarre?"

"My lord?" Gisborne raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Last week Hampton hanged half of a village without even blinking, and now I'd say he's struggling with his tears." Wiser men could have failed to say anything to that, so Vasey didn't expect Gisborne to answer either. He folded his arms instead, and kept on watching the weeping widow with a gist of a plan already forming in his mind.

oOo

Vasey gave his best performance; the committal was more than impressive. Gisborne could hardly suppress his smile when he saw how easy it was to enthral the Black Knights by showing only a flash of wealth and generosity.

"To Sir Archibald!" Vasey raised his cup high. Some of the guests had already have too much wine, but they mimicked him all the same. "And to our new Lord Kidsgrove," the Sheriff added, smiling at the poor young man who's just inherited all the lands and titles of his father. So they drank again.

"Thank you, thank you very much," young Lord Kidsgrove smiled first at Vasey, and then at his step-mother, before standing up from his seat and raising his cup. "To my father!"

Everyone drank. Again.

At least this way Gisborne could grin behind his goblet as much as he wanted to.

"My father was a great man," young Lord Kidsgrove said loudly. "I can only be grateful for all the things he gave me. My riches, my titles. My life. And of course my good friends," he added, beaming at Vasey. Gisborne had to sip his wine again to avoid groaning. Standing beside Vasey all day, he had to listen to all those adulations too, and he was really tired of them by now.

"And last but not least, Lady Gwyneth!" young Lord Kidsgrove raised his voice even more. "My friends! In this sad hour let me give you good news!"

Gisborne was almost sure that Lady Kidsgrove accidentally bit a part of her cup as she heard these words.

"Let me here and now declare my intention to wed the fair Lady Gwyneth, to hold her and to cherish as my father used to."

As the young Lord Kidsgrove pulled her up from her seat, the fair Lady Gwyneth put down her cup on the table. Gisborne saw no parts missing from it, but she was smiling as if her mouth was full of cullets.

oOo

Vasey watched the act with the eyes of a connoisseur.

The looks were perfect. Hair down, dishevelled from troubled sleep. Clothing slightly askew. Her hands must have been trembling terribly when she was wakened with the sad news in the middle of the night...

And if that didn't break the hearts of the lords and servants standing by, she fell to her knees beside the body and asked for explanation with tears in her eyes and even in her voice.

"We don't know what happened," Vasey stepped closer to Lady Gwyneth and the late young Lord Kidsgrove. "This is how we found him."

She closed her eyes in grief, and turned her head away from the body.

"He must have slipped on the stairs," said the Lord of Hampton in a low voice, glancing at the long flight of stairs beside them.

"That is most probable," sighed Vasey. "Lady Kidsgrove, you should wait for me in my office. I will meet you there in a few minutes." He jerked his head towards a servant, who helped the lady up from the ground and led her away. "Gisborne, take the body to the chapel. We will bury him beside his father tomorrow."

oOo

Gwyneth sat alone in Vasey's office. One of the servants brought her a cup of wine, but she did not touch it. Every now and then someone opened the door to see if she has jumped out of the window in grief, but apart from that they let her be. She shed a tear or two for them to see, but by the time the Sheriff and Gisborne came, she was very tired of the whole façade.

"That is that. Bravo," Vasey sat in his chair, taking Gwyneth's wine.

"Thank you," she said in an even voice. She was too drained to sound grateful.

"Don't thank me. It was a terrible, tragic turn of fate," smiled the Sheriff, waving his hand idly towards Gisborne. Gwyneth briefly nodded towards him.

It was time to ask if Vasey could decide the price she should pay for his help or to retreat. She wanted her head to be clear for bargaining, so she emerged from her chair slowly. "Thank you, my lord. And if you forgive me..."

"Of course," Vasey nodded absently. "You must be very tired. All this grief, all this weeping! Gisborne will escort you to your room."

Gwyneth didn't feel the need of an escort, but had no objection against walking alone with Gisborne either. It was quite clear that while the death of her stepson was Vasey's evil plan, Gisborne was the one to accomplish it, and he deserved a reward for it.

At least a kiss to make him feel that his efforts will not be without appreciation.

"Good night," she smiled, when they reached the door of her room. "And thank you." She stepped closer, kissing him lightly on the lips. It would have been surprising if he moved away from her, and it was only a little unexpected that he held her arm and did not let her back away from him.

"Is that all?" He lifted his head, smiling. A coquetting answer was in order, but before Gwyneth could even start thinking of one, he kissed her again.

It would have been wiser to send him away, to allude to grief, or a headache, and let him have his reward only after a few days' time, but Gwyneth only failed to open the door herself, because Gisborne's hand was already on the handle.

"My lady?" He smiled wickedly, sensing that she wanted to get into the room as much as he did.

"I told you I will be grateful," she blushed slightly.

"And I'm happy to see that you are a woman of your word." He pushed the door in, and let Gwyneth lead the way inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Gwyneth was up long before the servant girl came with breakfast and asked her in a respectfully low voice to present herself in Vasey's office as soon as possible. It took her more than an hour to get out of the warm bed.

"I hope you slept well," said the sheriff when she entered the room, motioning towards a chair. "We have plenty of work to do."

Gwyneth draw her cloak tighter around her shoulders and sat down. The morning was ruined, its birdsong and sunshine gone. Gisborne was still there, but next to the sheriff's seat, his face almost entirely invisible because of the light coming from the window behind him.

"Your performance yesterday was remarkable," smiled Vasey. "Almost brilliant. I have to admit, that for a moment or two, you got me. And that's a rare thing to happen."

Gwyneth chose to remain silent and wait.

"Can you do it again?" the sheriff asked.

To win some time, Gwyneth pulled her feet closer to her seat, moistened her lips and cleared her throat before asking: "Exactly what, my lord?"

"What will happen to me, poor, lonely widow in this cruel world, I will be eaten by the wolves, what will happen to me, oh, what?" Vasey explained in a crying voice. "So?"

Gwyneth did not even try to look at Gisborne for help. She put her hands from her lap to the arms of her chair and nodded.

"That's a good girl!" Vasey clasped his hands. "And I have good news for you. I've decided in what way you shall pay me for my help." As the sheriff moved closer to her in his seat, Gwyneth had to brace herself. "You remember that little nuisance in the forest on the way to Nottingham, don't you?" he grinned.

"The ambush?" she asked.

"Call it whatever you like. Hood and his gang of outlaws have been quite an annoyance for some time now, but now, my dear, you can help us to get rid of them forever!" Vasey rose from his seat, and putting both his hands on his table, he added: "Or at least you can have a try at it. As repayment for my generosity."

"What will I have to do?" Gwyneth asked in an even voice. She knew Vasey wouldn't be shy when asking for his payment.

"You stay with us. Cry some more, and tell to anyone who listens that we keep you here against your will. And wait to be saved."

"To be saved?"

"Hood is no mere outlaw," said Gisborne, stepping closer.

"Oh, no, he isn't!" laughed Vasey. "You see, my dear, he likes to think of himself as saviour of all those in need of saving. Champion of the poor, hero of the people, and so on, and so on. So when he finds out that we have a damsel in distress here in the castle, he'll rush to us, and then..." There was no need for Vasey to make himself any clearer. Banging on the table with both hands was expressive enough.

"So all I have to do is staying here and cry?"

"Giving me the lands you promised, staying here and cry, yes," the sheriff nodded.

"As you wish," Gwyneth raised from her chair. Paying less for the help would have been better, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

"Later Gisborne will tell you all the details of our little plan," Vasey smiled. "You may leave us now. We have a windy day. You should have a walk around the battlements. That would make your eyes nice and teary."

oOo

Gwyneth did not intend to wait for Gisborne in the harsh northern wind. She sat beside the fire in one of the many halls and tried to think of the hidden dangers in Vasey's plan.

"You won't have much to do," said Gisborne, when he finally found her, pulling a chair for himself from the table.

"Well, tell me then what little I can do for you," smiled Gwyneth. She was happy to be alone with Gisborne; she trusted him to tell the truth about the plan, and to tell all the details too.

"Vasey will announce that you are staying with us at lunch. The servants will start to spread the good news amongst themselves, and finally Hood will know about it too."

"Is there anything I should do?" Gwyneth pulled her chair closer to Gisborne's.

"No. Vasey will do it. You might want to cry a bit, but not too much. You will need your strength later."

Even though there was nothing in his voice that suggested mischief, Gwyneth smiled and leaned closer to Gisborne.

"You will only have to make them believe that it's against your will. That's not a hard job either. You'll have to complain and cry to the servants. You will have your suppers with Vasey, but breakfast and lunch will be brought to your room. That gives you a lot of time with them."

"Do I only have to talk to the servants, or-"

"Only the servants. And you won't even meet anyone else either. You will have to stay in your room."

"So you'll lock me up?" Gwyneth asked in disbelief. That was the first surprise in the plan, and she expected more to come too.

"No, I won't, but I will ask you to stay there." Gisborne smiled. "And you won't be bored. You will have your embroidery and you can chat with Vasey as much as you wish, during your meals. What's more; I'll take you to the church three times a day."

"Ah, the church!" she exclaimed in fake excitement.

"Three times a day," Gisborne repeated. "Always in the same hours, on the same route. I will show you where to sit, and I will be watching you from the door."

"Do you think they will try to save me from there?"

"That would be the easiest way, once we let them know that they can find you there so often."

"Won't it be too easy? It might raise suspicion..."

"Inside this castle there's no such thing as too easy an escape," Gisborne said flatly. Seeing the way he lifted his head and pulled his shoulders back, Gwyneth felt that it was a question of pride for him. Hoping that he and Vasey knew their own castle well enough, she smiled apologetically: "All right then, you must know it better than me."

Gisborne only nodded.

"So," Gwyneth leaned even closer to him. "After committing all sorts of dreadful sins in the solitary of my chamber, I take confessions three times a day."

"Yes." It was only a thin-lipped smile from Gisborne, but Gwyneth liked it nonetheless.

"And from the church Hood and his gang will try to rescue me."

"Yes, and I will catch them there."

oOo

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

"Carry on, my child," Robin smiled, hiding in the shadows of the confessional. His plan worked perfectly, he only had to wait for Lady Kidsgrove for a few minutes.

"It has been four hours since my last confession. I had improper, lustful thoughts."

Robin suppressed a laughter, cleared his throat and tried to sound like a priest would: "That is a dreadful sin, my child."

"I know, Father. Please, bless me."

"As you wish, my child. The Lord's Prayer. Three times. But make it quick, we've got to go." Robin could see the Lady Kidsgrove snapping up her head, turning pale and finally blushing in embarrassment even through the screen. He almost regretted what he has done; but he had too much fun to really feel sorry for it.

"Who's there?" she asked in a low voice, moving closer to the screen.

"Robin of Locksley. And you must be Lady Kidsgrove."

"I am."

"Where's Gisborne?"

She hesitated for a moment, but finally said: "At the door, in the last row of seats."

"All right. Listen to me; my friends will be here soon. They will lure out Gisborne from the church. Run when I say so. Run to the vestry. I'll be right behind you, but you should just run, and don't look back."

"What happens if-" she looked back over her shoulder.

"Everything will be all right. Just run as fast as you can. There's someone in the vestry waiting for you. Don't be frightened. If Gisborne comes after you, I'll stop him."

oOo

Hearing the first sign, Marian leaned closer to the wall, listening intently for the sounds coming from the other side of the door, waiting for Lady Kidsgrove to burst into the room.

She heard running steps, and readied herself. On the other side, someone tried to open the door desperately, but failed to do so.

Marian reached for the handle, and pulled with all her strength. Once the other woman was inside, she pushed the door closed behind her quickly.

"Gwyneth of Kidsgrove?" she asked, but without waiting for an answer, she handed her a bundle of clothes. "Put them over your own gown."

Allan was right. The robe concealed the woman's own clothing and her figure as well, and the boots were large enough for her to step into them wearing her own shoes, yet its leather strips held it securely.

"Behind me," said Marian, raising her sword as she heard steps approaching from behind the door again.

"We got rid of Gisborne," Robin grinned, closing and barring the door behind himself, once he was in the room too.

"Are you... sure?" Lady Kidsgrove asked in a small voice.

"Yes, I am. There's no need to worry, you're safe now," he said, smiling, and putting his hand on her shoulder. "Let's go!"

oOo

Gwyneth could feel her legs shaking with every step she took between her saviours. And she hated the hood they put on her head, for she could not even glance behind her shoulder to see if Gisborne was catching up.

When they got out of the church, she became even more nervous.

By the time they got out of the castle, she could feel panic climbing upwards her spine.

Something happened. Gisborne did not come. He did not come. Did. Not. Come.

From far behind them, on the castle's yard she could hear a distant sound - clashing of weapons, probably, but she could not see what was happening. And the noise did not come closer to them in time, either.

"All as planned?" asked another man, joining them. He wore the guise of a monk, too.

"Exactly as planned," Hood grinned. "And the robes are working perfectly."

"I've told ya," laughed the other man.

"Robin," a third man stepped out from a narrow street as they went past it. "Gisborne's closing down the castle."

"And the city?" asked Hood, for the first time with a hint of worry in his voice.

"Not yet. But the others-"

"Are right behind me" said a fourth figure, running up. Gwyneth started to feel very uncomfortable with all these people joining them at every corner. And the fact that they were walking towards the city gates at a confidently slow pace did not make her calmer, either.

They left behind three more corners without any more newcomers.

"Where are they?" Hood hissed, glancing over his shoulder.

"We should break up," suggested the foreign-looking woman who joined them last. "Marian and I will take the lady out of the city, and you can go back to help John and Much."

"Where did you last see them?" asked Hood, adjusting his sword under his robe.

"Around the inn, on the street heading east."

"Stay," the woman who gave Gwyneth her robe said firmly. "They're before us."

She was right. Two corners ahead two more hooded figures stood, waiting for them. Gwyneth almost tripped over her own feet as they moved towards them as one, but the boy walking next to her caught her elbow.

"Girls," Hood whispered, "Adjust your capes, I can still see your faces."

"And boys," whispered the woman Gwyneth first met, "Adjust your robes, I can still see your swords."

The small giggles made Gwyneth even more nervous. None of her saviours seemed worried by the fact that soldiers and Gisborne were right behind them...

"Master," gasped the smaller of the last two who joined them. "Gisborne's closed down the castle."

"Is he coming behind us?" Hood asked. Gwyneth closed her eyes for a moment, silently praying for the right answer.

"We got rid of him in the market. He's heading east."

Gwyneth could hardly suppress a groan hearing the bad news.

"Robin, one of the soldiers is looking," said the young man walking next to Gwyneth.

"Allan," Hood signalled with his hand.

"You're gonna regret this," the man called Allan said.

"The moment you start it," grinned Hood.

Gwyneth could only stare and gape in shock, as the man started to sing. He sang a line, then the others repeated the last word. He sang another, they repeated. It had nothing to do with any of the hymns Gwyneth has ever heard, let alone Latin, but the trick seemed to work. The soldiers let them pass the gate.

She did not dare to glance back with all these people around her, but she was sadly sure that Gisborne was not coming. She was out of the city, heading towards the forest, and Gisborne was nowhere. She did not say a word, but inside she was screaming with fear and anger.


	4. Chapter 4

Gwyneth was still wrapped tightly in her fake monk's robe, and Marian watched her with sympathy. She could remember her first weeks in the forest all to well; no matter how close she sat to the fire or how many of Robin's cloaks and blankets she borrowed, she'd felt cold all the time too.

"How is it?" she asked, walking closer to the fire where Much was preparing their meal, sitting next to Gwyneth.

"Considering the limited supplies, it is the best soup I or any man could make here, in the middle of the wilderness," Much replied, glancing at their guest warily.

Marian could not suppress a smile. "If it's only half as good as yesterday's, we'll have a most delicious meal," she said.

"Hah!" Much exclaimed, lifting his head high and checking if everyone in the camp could hear Marian's words.

"What?" Allan looked back at him. "I've told ya, it was the best vole I've ever eaten."

"Today we have no vole," Much looked at Gwyneth with a solemn face. "Or anything like that. It's only onions and cabbage."

"It's a pity you aren't staying with us. A noble guest such as yourself could keep us eating pheasant for months," Allan leaned closer to Gwyneth, as he put down more firewood beside them.

"Am I not staying?" she asked in surprise.

"No, you won't," Robin joined them too. "I have a friend from the old times. Geoffrey Colwick," he added looking at Marian, "We'll take you to him tomorrow. He'll help you to leave the shire."

"To leave the shire?" Gwyneth pulled the robe tighter around herself.

"The further you get from Vasey and Gisborne, the better," Marian nodded.

"Says the woman who could only make it to the next forest. You could still peer through Gisborne's window if you wanted to," Robin said in a low voice, smiling.

Marian glanced at him, with a quick retort already on the tip of her tongue, but Gwyneth was quicker: "Are we that close to Nottingham?"

"It depends on what you call close," Allan laughed. "If something that you can reach with three hours of walking, then yes, we are close to Nottingham."

"If the sun sets, you can see the lights," Robin pointed towards the city.

"I can show it to you, if you care," said Allan, grinning.

"And don't they see our lights too?" Gwyneth turned around. "I mean... we are close to the edge of the forest, if we can see their light, they can see our campfire too, don't they?"

"There's no need to worry, it's all been carefully planned," Robin smiled proudly. "We are near the edge, because they think we would seek shelter in the middle of the forest. And over that hill behind you, there's not only Nottingham, but Locksley too. They can't see our fire from there, because of the hill. They could spot it from one of the towers in the city, but they would think it's in Locksley, not in the forest. It's all been carefully planned."

Marian didn't look at Robin. Most of the time she did not mind Robin presenting their plans as his own, but she was too tired to pat his clever little head now. She could only give him a lop-sided, wry smile, which he didn't even notice.

"When will we eat?" Will asked, looking at the soup expectantly.

"In an hour," Much said, after picking up a piece of cabbage and examining it thoroughly.

"I'll go now then," Will stood up from beside the fire. "Leave me some, but not like last time!"

"We'll set up after sunrise and be there by morning," Robin repeated the plan. "And ask Geoffrey if he wants a brown or a bay horse in exchange for the one he gives to Lady Gwyneth."

"What, we give him a horse and he can even choose?" asked Allan indignantly.

"Of course! We treat our friends like they deserve, as always," Robin smiled smugly.

"I'll go with you," Marian said, getting up from beside Robin. "It's been a while since my last message to father, and tomorrow we won't have time for that."

"All right," Robin reached for her hand, kissing it lightly. "Send my best wishes to Edward."

Marian smiled and tightened her fingers around Robin's. She was sure that after the walk to Geoffrey's house and back she will be able to love him for being the man he was again.

oOo

"Don't tell me that you've already given up the chase," said Vasey, looking at Gisborne with his brows raised. Gisborne was covered in mud up to the thighs, and his horse had it up to his chest. He had looked under every stone in the forest for his lady friend. Again.

"I haven't, my lord," Gisborne dismounted his horse. "But I will need torches, dogs and more men."

"You may take all the dogs and torches you want, but I see no need for more men out in the forest," Vasey shrugged.

For the shortest of short seconds Gisborne looked as if he would complain, but he remained silent.

"Unbelievable," Vasey sighed, folding his arms in front of his chest. "It almost seems to me that sooner or later, every woman flees to the forest from you."

"Lady Kidsgrove dig not flee," said Gisborne through gritted teeth.

"Of course she did not," grinned the Sheriff. "And so you don't have to worry about her any more. You'll have her in your bed again before you know it."

_Or at least I hope so_ - he added to himself. There was really no need to repeat the madness that followed the disappearance of the fair Lady Marian last year. Gisborne then was too close to breaking his leash and turn against him.

"If rescuing your beloved lady is not demanding all your energy, try to catch Hood as well, will you?" Vasey patted the younger man's shoulder in a mock-fatherly way, before turning his back to him, and walking back to his rooms.

oOo

Night came quite quickly. One moment Gwyneth was still clinging to her hopes of Gisborne arriving to rescue her, framed by the golden setting sun, and the next, she was accepting the second cloak offered against the cold of the night.

"You can sleep, if you are tired," Hood looked at her from the other side of the fire.

"Thank you. I'm not," Gwyneth shook her head. Going to sleep sounded like giving up.

"I knew these girls, sisters," said Allan, smiling, half-lost in sweet memories. "Both of them sleep with their eyes half open. I wake up in the middle of the night, and there they are, staring. Horrible. They're lovely girls when awake, but you don't wanna sleep next to them."

"My mother could sew with her eyes closed," Much added. "When she was very tired, she just sat next to the fire, and-"

In the sudden silence, the barking of dogs sounded louder than a thunder.

Before she realized, someone had kicked a pile of dust on the campfire, killing it, and everybody was standing around her with their weapons in their hands.

"Vasey must really miss you if he sends Gisborne after you in the middle of the night," said Hood with a mixture of anger and merriment in his voice. "Much and Djaq, you take Lady Gwyneth towards the brook. We lure Gisborne away. Meet us at the winter camp in two hours. If we're not there by sunrise, take the lady to Geoffrey's house."

And they began to run.

No matter how hard she tried, Gwyneth tumbled on root after root, stone after stone, even after her eyes got used to the darkness of the forest. She could only remain on her feet and keep on running, because the other two held her arms and caught her every time she almost fell.

"It will be better here," said Much, as they reached the clearing around the brook. "More light. Almost full moon. Fewer roots. It will be much better!"

"They're after the others," said Djaq, turning back to where they came from. Amongst the trees they could clearly see the torches of the soldiers, and even though she didn't see anything apart from the flame, Gwyneth was sure that the first belonged to Guy. She was about to be saved.

"All right then," nodded Much grimly. "We should keep on running."

"Through the water or in it?" asked Djaq.

"Through. Too many rocks here, we'll go in it when there are fewer," said Much, stepping on one of the larger ones and offering his hand to Gwyneth. "Can you see where my foot is? Step right next to it. It's easy, you don't have to worry."

Gwyneth hesitated for a moment, longingly glancing at the torches again, but when the moment was gone, she decided to do what she was told.

"Master," groaned Much, as they heard the yells from amongst the trees, accompanied by the whining of the horses and the barking of the dogs.

"They are very close," said Djaq. "If they find out that we've split up, they'ill do that too. We should go in the water."

"Right," said Much in a painful voice. "Come right after me. Hold my hand, and step exactly where I have stepped before."

Gwyneth did not move. She didn't want to run any more. She started to fear that they might well be able to get her somehow to their friend, Colwick, and then she'll be on the other end of the country before she could blink, out of the reach of Guy. But she didn't want to let these people get caught because of her, either.

"Don't be afraid," said Much, trying to sound less frightened himself. "Just come. There'll be no problem. Just come."

Gwyneth took a deep breath, reached for his hand, and followed him.

The rocks were visible enough, but they were uneven and slippery, and no moonlight could help them with that.

"You should just... just hold my arm," said Much with a painful smile, after he almost pulled Gwyneth with himself when he fell.

"They noticed us!" Djaq cried, gripping Gwyneth's arm. In the dark, they could only see the torches turning in their directions, but that was more than enough.

"Out of the water! Run!" ordered Much, pulling Gwyneth after himself as he stepped out of the brook.

As she tried to follow him, Gwyneth slipped on the rock she was standing on, and though she did not fall, her foot got between two large stones.

"Did it sprain?" asked Djaq, as she and Much helped Gwyneth out of the water.

"No. I don't think so," hissed Gwyneth painfully through clenched teeth.

"We can't stop," said Djaq, looking up at Much. He drew his sword and nodded.

"You go first."

Djaq proved to be much stronger than she looked. After the few hesitant steps, Gwyneth dared to lean on her with most of her weight, and after a few more, she felt that the Saracen girl almost carried her.

Yet, no matter how strong or quick Djaq was, it didn't matter.

"Run!" yelled Much, and as the first horseman leapt over the brook, he stopped, facing him, with his sword high in his hand. It was a heroic gesture, but before the women could get at least a few meters away, he was on the ground, held by three soldiers.

"Trust me," Djaq whispered, and before Gwyneth could say a word, she whirled her around, and put a dagger to her side. "Back off!" the Saracen girl shouted. "Back off, or I kill her!"

Gwyneth did not dare to speak or move; she just stood there, and held her breath.

The soldiers stopped too, holding their weapons, but they didn't let Much go.

"I'll kill her!" Djaq yelled hoarsely, pressing the dagger firmly between Gwyneth's ribs. She could feel now that it was still in its sheath, but the men around them couldn't see it in the darkness.

Other horses came, and on one of them, Guy was sitting.

"You'll kill her," he said in a calm voice. "And after that? What will you do after that?"

"Back off!" shouted Djaq. She clearly wanted to seem mad enough to frighten all these men around them.

Guy smiled, dismounted his horse, and stepped beside the soldiers holding Much to the ground. As he jerked his head, one of them stepped aside, letting him kneel down next to Much, putting his dagger to the other man's throat.

"Back off, or I kill her!" Djaq screamed again.

"You kill her," Guy nodded. "Then I kill him, and take you back to Nottingham, where you'll be happy when I finally decide to kill you. Let her go, and I let you go too. Both of you."

Gwyneth yelped, as Djaq pulled her arm further back and pressed the dagger deeper into her side. She did not even dare to think of revealing the secret of the sheath still on it. She was sure that Djaq would kill her for that before dying.

"You first. Let him go," said Djaq, in a lower, more menacing voice.

Guy smiled again, then drew the dagger away from Much and pushed him back to the ground. Djaq stepped backwards, pulling Gwyneth with her, watching as Much got to his feet and quickly came to their side.

"Back off. All of you. Beyond the brook," she ordered, still holding Gwyneth tightly.

Guy started to lose his patience, and sent his men away with an irritable move of his hand.

"You too," said Djaq. "Back to that tree!" And when Guy backed behind the tree, she tightened her grip on Gwyneth's arm. "Much, take your bow."

"I don't think we..." Much started to argue, but Djaq interrupted him.

"Get your bow," she hissed. He hesitated for a moment, but finally bent down and picked up his weapons. He put an arrow on his bow, and pointed it on Gwyneth.

"I'm sorry," said Djaq in a low whisper. "Robin won't give up. We will save you. Be strong."

Gwyneth did not dare to move, not even when Djaq released her. She and Much slowly backed away from her, into the shadows amongst the trees, but she could feel the arrow pointing at her for long minutes, even when Guy finally decided to step beside her.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dear Lady Gwyneth! Are you hurt?" asked Vasey, stepping out from his office. From his windows he could see Gisborne and the woman entering the castle on the same horse, and he almost had to groan as the lady climbed back into Gisborne's arms, making him carry her up the stairs like a kitten.

"It's nothing, my lord," she said, blushing.

"Then why are you not walking on your own feet?" The look on the faces of the lovebirds was priceless. "You didn't catch Hood, did you?" Vasey continued after a moment.

"No, my lord," Gisborne answered, tightening his arms around his lady. Carrying her right into bed must have looked like a good idea down in the yard, but he clearly wanted to put her down now.

"Never mind," sighed Vasey, "Next time you will," he added, turning around, back to his office.

"My lord," Lady Gwyneth called, and by the time Vasey could look at her, she jumped off, slightly wincing, as her feet hit the ground.

"How may I help you, Lady Gwyneth?" Vasey grinned, seeing her eagerness.

"There is something that you might want to hear about," she said, glancing at Gisborne for reassurance. Vasey followed her glance, and as Gisborne nodded slightly, he smiled at Gwyneth.

"Come and tell me all of it," he said, walking into his office.

As she followed him without any whining or the assistance of Gisborne, Vasey decided to be good, and offered her a seat in front of his desk.

"Geoffrey Colwick is helping Hood," she said, sitting down.

"Is he?" blinked Vasey in amazement. Twice. Once because he expected a longer rambling from the woman, and once because he always thought Colwick to be a coward.

"They wanted to take me to his house tomorrow, and he was to help me to leave the shire."

"You mean the house of our Colwick, the one with the ugly wife and the heart of a rabbit?" Vasey asked, looking at Gisborne again. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, as the boy nodded. "You were right, Lady Gwyneth, I'm happy I've heard this. Gisborne, send a few of your men to Colwick's house. Only arrest him if he tries to escape. Otherwise I'll visit him tomorrow."

Hood's head on a spike would have been better news, but Vasey let the lovers leave with a content smile on his face. Colwick's lands weren't large or wealthy, as they had no mine or anything valuable, but Vasey could have counted the too-small fishes he let go on one hand.

oOo

As she could finally sit down in front of the fire and put her wounded leg up on a small chair, Gwyneth had to close her eyes for a minute, sighing.

"Let's get it over. After that you can sleep," said Guy, sitting down in another chair.

"Ah, the way I like it," she smiled. "Are you not tired?"

"I am. But I have to know every detail before I face Vasey tomorrow."

"All right," she said, opening her eyes and straightening her back. When she found the most comfortable position, she started to tell Guy everything that happened to her in the afternoon; how she met Hood in the church, how they escaped the castle and the city, and how they got to the outlaws' camp, up to the point when she first heard the dogs and Guy coming.

"And they wanted to take you to Colwick," he smiled.

Gwyneth nodded, but as she looked at her still-damp clothes beside the fire, and felt her aching leg, a question formed in her mind. "Who will get his lands?"

Guy only grimaced, and jerked towards the door with his head. The answer was too obvious to say.

"Well... it wasn't he who suffered for it, was he?" whispered Gwyneth.

"That's true," said Guy, pulling his chair closer to her. "But that's the way it goes. And we'll have our profit from it too," he said, stroking her hand. "He will be happy with his new lands for a few days, which makes him more bearable for that time. Come, let us sleep," he said, getting up and bending down to help.

Gwyneth was enjoying this new kind of transportation, and put her arms around his neck with a wide smile and let herself to be carried to the bed.

"You should tell him that it would be most generous if he at least gave us a reward for those lands," she said, when Guy finally put her down, and turned to wash his face in the already cold water that was left in the small basin.

"Of course. I should put it in a letter with the Pope's signature on it," he laughed.

"It was we who suffered and worked for it," said Gwyneth. "I don't know if you were counting it, but I had to fight seven fierce outlaws today."

"Seven?" asked Guy, looking up from his shirt that he dried his face in.

"Seven. Five scary men and two women, who were even scarier."

"There are only six in Hood's gang," he said, throwing the shirt away. "And only one woman."

"No, there are seven of them, and two women."

Guy sat down on the bed, his eyebrows knitted. "The Saracen and...?"

"An Englishwoman. They called her Marian..."

"Marian?" echoed Guy. Gwyneth could only nod. Whatever it was, it was breaking something inside him into pieces. He swallowed hard, and put both of is feet on the ground. Yet, he did not get up, as if he feared that if he did so, he would fall.

Gwyneth was close enough to reach his hand or shoulder, but she did not move. After long minutes, Guy sighed deeply, and nodded.

"Brown hair. Blue eyes," he said without looking at Gwyneth.

"Yes," she said, moving only a little closer to him. "You know her?"

Guy only nodded, but when Gwyneth started to give up the hope for a longer answer, he spoke: "Her father was the sheriff before Vasey. We were engaged."

It was Gwyneth's turn to be taken aback. Of course she has heard of the Lady Knighton who humiliated Guy at the altar. Only with voices low, but the servants would gossip even about him.

"Yes," Guy looked at her with a dry smile. "That Lady Marian."

Gwyneth could not help but glance at the almost invisible scar under Guy's eye. She was quick, but he noticed it all the same.

"And which version did you hear? That I was madly in love with her, or that I wanted to marry her for her fortune?" he asked.

"Both," she whispered.

"You're well informed. Vasey loves that," he nodded.

Gwyneth acted as if she did not hear the sarcasm in his voice, and moved closer to him. "Which one is true?" she asked.

Guy smiled, but only let out the breath in his chest, and dropped his head forward. "I don't know. Probably both," he said after a while.

Gwyneth didn't say a word. Guy sat there with his elbows on his thighs and his chin pressed to his chest. After a while she decided to shift slightly on the bed, so that he could feel it. He remained silent even after that, but looked at her above his shoulder. The sadness left his smile, but it only made him look even more tired.

Gwyneth took it as encouragement, and moved closer to him, touching his arm. He only sighed, closed his eyes, and sat closer to her on the bed, so that she could reach his hand, and hold it.

"I was madly in love," he said in a low voice. "Too madly. I didn't notice that she wasn't teasing me but refusing. I was blind." He fell silent again, and looked at their hands, stroking Gwyneth's with his thumb, as if it was a crumpled piece of paper from which he could read what to say next.

He smiled again, like his own foolishness was something highly amusing, and turned his face away, shaking his head. "I thought she could give me everything. Power. Wealth. Family and children. A good life," he laughed.

Gwyneth moved her hand so it would fit better into his.

"When... after the wedding..." he said still looking at their hands. "It all went wrong. I was looking for her. To bring her back. With force. And after that... I wanted vengeance. But she disappeared. Her father too. As if the Earth opened under them. Just like that. From one day to the next. Hood helped them. But I couldn't find him, either."

Gwyneth listened, and tightened her grip around his fingers so slowly that he didn't even notice it.

"And then everything started to fall, too. Day by day. Everything that I worked for. I wanted to reverse it, to make things right, but I just couldn't. I was very close. Very close to losing it all."

The memories and the cold air of the room made him shiver slightly. Gwyneth moved closer, so that their arms would touch.

"You know what helped?" he asked, turning to her. He looked as if he had to hold together a life that was falling apart with his bare hands. "Vasey."

It was hard to decide if Guy was laughing at what he said, or at the expression on Gwyneth's face hearing that.

"I realised that he was afraid. Afraid of losing me. You hate to kill your best dogs, even if they go mad. Never in my life did he let me know that he cared, or that I could be better than the next man that could wander in his castle. But then I saw it. He needs me."

Gwyneth had to smile when Guy smiled, with pride all over his face, breathing deeply.

"He needs me. He could destroy me, but he doesn't want to. I'm irreplaceable."

Gwyneth was almost sure that she saw tears in his eyes, but they were gone the moment Guy blinked. She moved even closer, stretching her aching leg behind him. Guy only turned his head back to their hands, and stayed like that, as if there was nothing else in the world, but their hands.

"Come, let us sleep," Gwyneth said after a while, to which he nodded absent-mindedly. She had to stroke his arm and back to make him move and lie on the bed.

It has always been easy to find a position in which they could rest for half an hour after making love, but now, as they had to find one in which they could spend the whole night, it seemed a hard task. But when at last Gwyneth's leg was safely stretched away on the bed, and Guy's arm was around her waist, it seemed to be the best way to be.

* * *

Thank you for reading. The second story is on it's way, stay tuned!


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